day

night

bars, bars, bars

before dawn i braid my hair. two long tails that swing as i move living room, hall, kitchen. oatmeal for breakfast, cigarette in the car. six cups of constant comment: i clock-in, no twitch of exhaustion. exhaustion: two am, up reading biographies of society women. she spent half her life in front of a mirror. i’ll spend mine typing. a steady rhythm: tim woodman's whimsical garden art is designed for indoor or outdoor use. i barely see what’s written. my desk shoved against the window, blinds opened a finger’s width. no, i’ll spend half my day staring. around noon a coworker interrupts want to sign linda’s card? sure though i can’t place name or face. best birthday wishes xo elizabeth. in the break room, a party. strawberry cake, black streamers, banner over the hill r.i.p. i sing softly. wait for the appropriate moment to leave, return to my desk. the typing begins again. a steady rhythm.